*I'm presently working on a fast-food Artificer with a custom subclass.*
*His name is W.L. Fryer, and he owns a small chain of restaurants that use advanced technology and techniques in order to turn discarded whaleflesh into a reasonably delicious food-substitute, which frequently resembles edible material. Comes in various flavors that will delight your low-income housing district, such as: surströmming, sausage, lasagna, "chicken," and mystery.*
*you wanna rp?*
*I would be up for it, but I don't know any of my characters on here who wouldn't be immediately hostile toward the Emissaries*
*you could kill them, they come back. I also have another idea for a char in mind*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Pronouns: I don't [GP]ing care. call me whatever
About Me: Godless monster in human form bent on extending their natural life to unnatural extremes /general of the goose horde /Moderator of Vinstreb School for the Gifted /holder of the evil storyteller badge of no honor /king of madness /The FBI/ The Archmage of I CAST...!
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Fun Fact: i gain more power the more you post on my forum threads. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
*I'm presently working on a fast-food Artificer with a custom subclass.*
*His name is W.L. Fryer, and he owns a small chain of restaurants that use advanced technology and techniques in order to turn discarded whaleflesh into a reasonably delicious food-substitute, which frequently resembles edible material. Comes in various flavors that will delight your low-income housing district, such as: surströmming, sausage, lasagna, "chicken," and mystery.*
*you wanna rp?*
*I would be up for it, but I don't know any of my characters on here who wouldn't be immediately hostile toward the Emissaries*
*you could kill them, they come back. I also have another idea for a char in mind*
*I mean "kill on sight, no words exchanged" levels of hostile. That's not fun.*
*I'm presently working on a fast-food Artificer with a custom subclass.*
*His name is W.L. Fryer, and he owns a small chain of restaurants that use advanced technology and techniques in order to turn discarded whaleflesh into a reasonably delicious food-substitute, which frequently resembles edible material. Comes in various flavors that will delight your low-income housing district, such as: surströmming, sausage, lasagna, "chicken," and mystery.*
*you wanna rp?*
*I would be up for it, but I don't know any of my characters on here who wouldn't be immediately hostile toward the Emissaries*
*you could kill them, they come back. I also have another idea for a char in mind*
*I mean "kill on sight, no words exchanged" levels of hostile. That's not fun.*
*What's the idea?*
*barbershop quartet who haunts random people, ruining their lives, until they die, and join the quartet*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Pronouns: I don't [GP]ing care. call me whatever
About Me: Godless monster in human form bent on extending their natural life to unnatural extremes /general of the goose horde /Moderator of Vinstreb School for the Gifted /holder of the evil storyteller badge of no honor /king of madness /The FBI/ The Archmage of I CAST...!
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Fun Fact: i gain more power the more you post on my forum threads. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
*I'm presently working on a fast-food Artificer with a custom subclass.*
*His name is W.L. Fryer, and he owns a small chain of restaurants that use advanced technology and techniques in order to turn discarded whaleflesh into a reasonably delicious food-substitute, which frequently resembles edible material. Comes in various flavors that will delight your low-income housing district, such as: surströmming, sausage, lasagna, "chicken," and mystery.*
*you wanna rp?*
*I would be up for it, but I don't know any of my characters on here who wouldn't be immediately hostile toward the Emissaries*
*you could kill them, they come back. I also have another idea for a char in mind*
*I mean "kill on sight, no words exchanged" levels of hostile. That's not fun.*
*What's the idea?*
*barbershop quartet who haunts random people, ruining their lives, until they die, and join the quartet*
About Me: Godless monster in human form bent on extending their natural life to unnatural extremes /general of the goose horde /Moderator of Vinstreb School for the Gifted /holder of the evil storyteller badge of no honor /king of madness /The FBI/ The Archmage of I CAST...!
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Fun Fact: i gain more power the more you post on my forum threads. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
*I can't stay but I thought I should give an update since some momentous events have occurred.*
The Fox Hounds have come baying to the feet of their master. His great autumnal head hears their whines and barks, understanding their silent sort of speech. He learns what scents they smell, or rather, smell no longer. Trails gone cold. Hunts gone old. Ghouls turned bold.
He makes no announcement. He does not appear before his people. Not yet. Soon. But for now, he knows the jack'o'lanterns will spread the news.
There are many pumpkins in the Autumn Country. And it's usually not long before faces are torn across their surface and spirits fill their mouths. Some stay silent, some gibber silly secrets and overheard conversation. But now they all scream a greater news:
"Have you heard the horrible thing? Let the news through the hollers ring! Someone has no regard for the rules!"
"Somebody stole the Barley King! Misfortune this will surely bring! I have heard it was those hungry ghouls!"
The wind of the Autumn Country usually carries a chill. Now that chill bites deep and hard, nipping blood and bone. And what is that falling among the leaves? Did you see? Could that be snow?
in a clearing with no plants, something rolls over under a blanket of lichen and cobwebs.
the snow is good.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Pronouns: I don't [GP]ing care. call me whatever
About Me: Godless monster in human form bent on extending their natural life to unnatural extremes /general of the goose horde /Moderator of Vinstreb School for the Gifted /holder of the evil storyteller badge of no honor /king of madness /The FBI/ The Archmage of I CAST...!
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Fun Fact: i gain more power the more you post on my forum threads. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
Flyers have begun falling from the sky all over the Autumn Country. Dark oval shapes float over the clouds.
"Whaleheart Eats has an EXCITING OFFER for you!"
Huge, strange machines have been placed in front of Ghoul Gates, slowly, oh-so-painfully slowly, forcing them open.
"Bring the head of the Barley King to any Whaleheart Eats location, and ALL THIS MONEY will be yours!"
Cozotz, the Medium, and several other mercenaries have gathered around the machines, defending them and waiting for them to finish.
"You will also receive a FREE family meal!"
The chubby, smiling face of the founder is on every flyer, an illustration of him standing in front of a plate with a lamb's head on it, holding a bag of money in one large hand and putting his other on the shoulder of an anonymous, featureless figure.
Adeline is in the silk-strangled forest once again, wrapped in blankets so that only a bit of her face and her antennae can be seen, huddled in front of a crackling campfire. She's trying her best to avoid the creeping cold of winter, attempting to keep warm as though her life depends on it.
The crooked ghoul is in Ghulheim, watching the celebrations occur in anticipation for the famines and frost that winter will bring, and the feast that shall follow. Its plan has been going wonderfully so far... and yet, it doesn't seem to be happy with the results.
The Groundskeeper sees the falling snow, and their first reaction is fear. They frantically begin trying to preserve as much of the courtyard as they can- covering more vulnerable plants with tarps that still let the sunlight through, placing mulch in the soil to prevent freezing, bringing the potted shrubs and smaller topiary bushes indoors, and other such things. Winter shall not ruin this pristine garden.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The cultists of the Barley King are panicking. All ghouls they see are obliterated with divine magic on sight. Formerly spread throughout Autumn Country, they now gather en masse in their tavern churches and around the keep of painted leaves. Their seven High Priests are making a plan. The barley king is in Ghulheim… they don’t have the numbers to fight the Ghouls on their home turf… oh, what are they to do?
Julius is in his secret, sacred pumpkin patch, untouched by any hands other than his in a decade. Snow falls lightly upon the domain, but melts in the air before it touches the ground. Julius’ magic protects his most sacred place, at least. He leaves the pumpkin patch, surrounded by dense woods, impenetrable to all but him, impossible to find unless he wishes it, and makes his way on the wind towards the keep of painted leaves.
Soon, Julius arrives, emerging out of a field of wheat and making his way to the pristine garden, meticulously taken care of by the groundskeeper. He does whatever he can to help them, probably the most qualified to do so in all of Autumn country, besides the groundskeeper themself.
Mother Moth, sensing the coming winter, is providing refuge for travelers in her sanctuary, knitting blankets and warm clothes frantically, helping spiders find dens, and adding extra protection from the cold for her brood of silk moths in the trees.
Adeline is in the silk-strangled forest once again, wrapped in blankets so that only a bit of her face and her antennae can be seen, huddled in front of a crackling campfire. She's trying her best to avoid the creeping cold of winter, attempting to keep warm as though her life depends on it.
The crooked ghoul is in Ghulheim, watching the celebrations occur in anticipation for the famines and frost that winter will bring, and the feast that shall follow. Its plan has been going wonderfully so far... and yet, it doesn't seem to be happy with the results.
The Groundskeeper sees the falling snow, and their first reaction is fear. They frantically begin trying to preserve as much of the courtyard as they can- covering more vulnerable plants with tarps that still let the sunlight through, placing mulch in the soil to prevent freezing, bringing the potted shrubs and smaller topiary bushes indoors, and other such things. Winter shall not ruin this pristine garden.
In both locations (at separate times), a large man approaches. The man from the flyers. He begins humming to himself as he puts up rods in a 60ft circle, absolutely jolly. He says nothing, just continuing his work. "Tell me... why does it sound so easy to breathe..." He sings under his breath.
The cultists of the Barley King are panicking. All ghouls they see are obliterated with divine magic on sight. Formerly spread throughout Autumn Country, they now gather en masse in their tavern churches and around the keep of painted leaves. Their seven High Priests are making a plan. The barley king is in Ghulheim… they don’t have the numbers to fight the Ghouls on their home turf… oh, what are they to do?
Julius is in his secret, sacred pumpkin patch, untouched by any hands other than his in a decade. Snow falls lightly upon the domain, but melts in the air before it touches the ground. Julius’ magic protects his most sacred place, at least. He leaves the pumpkin patch, surrounded by dense woods, impenetrable to all but him, impossible to find unless he wishes it, and makes his way on the wind towards the keep of painted leaves.
Soon, Julius arrives, emerging out of a field of wheat and making his way to the pristine garden, meticulously taken care of by the groundskeeper. He does whatever he can to help them, probably the most qualified to do so in all of Autumn country, besides the groundskeeper themself.
Mother Moth, sensing the coming winter, is providing refuge for travelers in her sanctuary, knitting blankets and warm clothes frantically, helping spiders find dens, and adding extra protection from the cold for her brood of silk moths in the trees.
Several workmen wearing uniforms from a fast food company approach, carrying big boxes of yarn. "A gift from Whaleheart Eats." One states, offering her a clipboard and pen. There's a line to sign, and the only things other than that on the page is "I have recieved my package" and five empty stars. The young man seems overworked and underdressed for winter, but he's not complaining about anything.
The cultists of the Barley King are panicking. All ghouls they see are obliterated with divine magic on sight. Formerly spread throughout Autumn Country, they now gather en masse in their tavern churches and around the keep of painted leaves. Their seven High Priests are making a plan. The barley king is in Ghulheim… they don’t have the numbers to fight the Ghouls on their home turf… oh, what are they to do?
Julius is in his secret, sacred pumpkin patch, untouched by any hands other than his in a decade. Snow falls lightly upon the domain, but melts in the air before it touches the ground. Julius’ magic protects his most sacred place, at least. He leaves the pumpkin patch, surrounded by dense woods, impenetrable to all but him, impossible to find unless he wishes it, and makes his way on the wind towards the keep of painted leaves.
Soon, Julius arrives, emerging out of a field of wheat and making his way to the pristine garden, meticulously taken care of by the groundskeeper. He does whatever he can to help them, probably the most qualified to do so in all of Autumn country, besides the groundskeeper themself.
Mother Moth, sensing the coming winter, is providing refuge for travelers in her sanctuary, knitting blankets and warm clothes frantically, helping spiders find dens, and adding extra protection from the cold for her brood of silk moths in the trees.
The Groundskeeper has already done an impressive amount of work on shielding the garden from the first frost by the time Julius arrives- they have no magic to speak of, but have employed numerous mundane methods to preserve the plants as best they can. With the help of the Harvest Prince, the rest of the work is completed in near-record time. Only after they are certain everything that can be done to protect the courtyard has been done do they speak. "Many thanks, your highness. I am deeply sorry I failed to act sooner." They bow slightly.
Adeline quickly arrives as the sanctuary soon after, shivering despite her numerous layers of protection from winter's bite. Without saying a word, she immediately goes to help Mother Moth with all their winter preparations with a similar desperate rapidity.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The cultists of the Barley King are panicking. All ghouls they see are obliterated with divine magic on sight. Formerly spread throughout Autumn Country, they now gather en masse in their tavern churches and around the keep of painted leaves. Their seven High Priests are making a plan. The barley king is in Ghulheim… they don’t have the numbers to fight the Ghouls on their home turf… oh, what are they to do?
Julius is in his secret, sacred pumpkin patch, untouched by any hands other than his in a decade. Snow falls lightly upon the domain, but melts in the air before it touches the ground. Julius’ magic protects his most sacred place, at least. He leaves the pumpkin patch, surrounded by dense woods, impenetrable to all but him, impossible to find unless he wishes it, and makes his way on the wind towards the keep of painted leaves.
Soon, Julius arrives, emerging out of a field of wheat and making his way to the pristine garden, meticulously taken care of by the groundskeeper. He does whatever he can to help them, probably the most qualified to do so in all of Autumn country, besides the groundskeeper themself.
Mother Moth, sensing the coming winter, is providing refuge for travelers in her sanctuary, knitting blankets and warm clothes frantically, helping spiders find dens, and adding extra protection from the cold for her brood of silk moths in the trees.
Several workmen wearing uniforms from a fast food company approach, carrying big boxes of yarn. "A gift from Whaleheart Eats." One states, offering her a clipboard and pen. There's a line to sign, and the only things other than that on the page is "I have recieved my package" and five empty stars. The young man seems overworked and underdressed for winter, but he's not complaining about anything.
She frowns, looking the page up and down, and on the back, despite it being blank. “A gift?…” she seems a bit… shocked. After a bit of consideration, she asks, ‘who owns Whaleheart eats?…” after that, she likely signs her name, writing, ‘Duchess Calpe Belinapter,’ and looking up to the man. “What are the stars for?”
Adeline is in the silk-strangled forest once again, wrapped in blankets so that only a bit of her face and her antennae can be seen, huddled in front of a crackling campfire. She's trying her best to avoid the creeping cold of winter, attempting to keep warm as though her life depends on it.
The crooked ghoul is in Ghulheim, watching the celebrations occur in anticipation for the famines and frost that winter will bring, and the feast that shall follow. Its plan has been going wonderfully so far... and yet, it doesn't seem to be happy with the results.
The Groundskeeper sees the falling snow, and their first reaction is fear. They frantically begin trying to preserve as much of the courtyard as they can- covering more vulnerable plants with tarps that still let the sunlight through, placing mulch in the soil to prevent freezing, bringing the potted shrubs and smaller topiary bushes indoors, and other such things. Winter shall not ruin this pristine garden.
In both locations (at separate times), a large man approaches. The man from the flyers. He begins humming to himself as he puts up rods in a 60ft circle, absolutely jolly. He says nothing, just continuing his work. "Tell me... why does it sound so easy to breathe..." He sings under his breath.
She looks up at them as they approach, not daring to stray too far from the fire's warmth. He can see her large, dark eyes watching him curiously from within the makeshift cocoon of insulation. "What are those?" She asks, talking about the metal rods he places in a circle.
Before he plants the first rod into the soil, he sees the Groundskeeper, arms crossed, looking down at him. "What do you think you are doing?" They pointedly ask.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
the emissary of lichen is standing in a feild, motionless
the emmisary of worms is digging up corpses to feast on them
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Pronouns: I don't [GP]ing care. call me whatever
About Me: Godless monster in human form bent on extending their natural life to unnatural extremes /general of the goose horde /Moderator of Vinstreb School for the Gifted /holder of the evil storyteller badge of no honor /king of madness /The FBI/ The Archmage of I CAST...!
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Fun Fact: i gain more power the more you post on my forum threads. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
Several workmen wearing uniforms from a fast food company approach, carrying big boxes of yarn. "A gift from Whaleheart Eats." One states, offering her a clipboard and pen. There's a line to sign, and the only things other than that on the page is "I have recieved my package" and five empty stars. The young man seems overworked and underdressed for winter, but he's not complaining about anything.
She frowns, looking the page up and down, and on the back, despite it being blank. “A gift?…” she seems a bit… shocked. After a bit of consideration, she asks, ‘who owns Whaleheart eats?…” after that, she likely signs her name, writing, ‘Duchess Calpe Belinapter,’ and looking up to the man. “What are the stars for?”
"Mr. W.L. Fryer, ma'am. A philanthropist and inventor. No idea why he wants to help y'all. The stars are so we know how satisfied you are with your delivery." He lifts up his foot to stomp on a spider, before reluctantly letting it pass by, sighing. "Why are these things so important?" He asks, referring to the arachnids.
The cultists of the Barley King are panicking. All ghouls they see are obliterated with divine magic on sight. Formerly spread throughout Autumn Country, they now gather en masse in their tavern churches and around the keep of painted leaves. Their seven High Priests are making a plan. The barley king is in Ghulheim… they don’t have the numbers to fight the Ghouls on their home turf… oh, what are they to do?
Julius is in his secret, sacred pumpkin patch, untouched by any hands other than his in a decade. Snow falls lightly upon the domain, but melts in the air before it touches the ground. Julius’ magic protects his most sacred place, at least. He leaves the pumpkin patch, surrounded by dense woods, impenetrable to all but him, impossible to find unless he wishes it, and makes his way on the wind towards the keep of painted leaves.
Soon, Julius arrives, emerging out of a field of wheat and making his way to the pristine garden, meticulously taken care of by the groundskeeper. He does whatever he can to help them, probably the most qualified to do so in all of Autumn country, besides the groundskeeper themself.
Mother Moth, sensing the coming winter, is providing refuge for travelers in her sanctuary, knitting blankets and warm clothes frantically, helping spiders find dens, and adding extra protection from the cold for her brood of silk moths in the trees.
The Groundskeeper has already done an impressive amount of work on shielding the garden from the first frost by the time Julius arrives- they have no magic to speak of, but have employed numerous mundane methods to preserve the plants as best they can. With the help of the Harvest Prince, the rest of the work is completed in near-record time. Only after they are certain everything that can be done to protect the courtyard has been done do they speak. "Many thanks, your highness. I am deeply sorry I failed to act sooner." They bow slightly.
Adeline quickly arrives as the sanctuary soon after, shivering despite her numerous layers of protection from winter's bite. Without saying a word, she immediately goes to help Mother Moth with all their winter preparations with a similar desperate rapidity.
He nods. “You work much too hard for me to allow this garden to die… I can enchant the garden with a ward of protection against the cold, but it won’t be completely effective- my magic is stretched much too thin at the moment…” he says, sitting down and surveying their work.
”good, good, I’ll get you some more thread, darling-“ she says to Adeline, pacing about the sanctuary, knitting and transporting materials. “Perhaps I can call upon the local spiders to help us- If I had known there was a cold snap coming I could have had more time to prepare- we’ll need food- and wood for fire- oh my… we might have to go underground-“ she mutters, mostly to herself, but also to Adeline. There are already about two dozen people throughout the sanctuary, huddling for warmth.
In both locations (at separate times), a large man approaches. The man from the flyers. He begins humming to himself as he puts up rods in a 60ft circle, absolutely jolly. He says nothing, just continuing his work. "Tell me... why does it sound so easy to breathe..." He sings under his breath.
She looks up at them as they approach, not daring to stray too far from the fire's warmth. He can see her large, dark eyes watching him curiously from within the makeshift cocoon of insulation. "What are those?" She asks, talking about the metal rods he places in a circle.
Before he plants the first rod into the soil, he sees the Groundskeeper, arms crossed, looking down at him. "What do you think you are doing?" They pointedly ask.
As he finishes, he smiles a bit wider. "You'll see in just a second." He pulls out a remote and pulls a lever on it. A golden dome appears arcing between the poles and filling the area with warm sunlight. Not too hot, but like a warm autumn day. The area is now Hallowed.
He taps the rod in his hand, and warm sunlight begins to beam out. "Keeps the ghouls out and the plants warm and healthy. This garden is an icon of the Autumn Country, and to cover it up would be a crime." He offers some rods to the Groundskeeper.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
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*you could kill them, they come back. I also have another idea for a char in mind*
Pronouns: I don't [GP]ing care. call me whatever
About Me: Godless monster in human form bent on extending their natural life to unnatural extremes /general of the goose horde /Moderator of Vinstreb School for the Gifted /holder of the evil storyteller badge of no honor /king of madness /The FBI/ The Archmage of I CAST...!
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Fun Fact: i gain more power the more you post on my forum threads. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
*I mean "kill on sight, no words exchanged" levels of hostile. That's not fun.*
*What's the idea?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
*barbershop quartet who haunts random people, ruining their lives, until they die, and join the quartet*
Pronouns: I don't [GP]ing care. call me whatever
About Me: Godless monster in human form bent on extending their natural life to unnatural extremes /general of the goose horde /Moderator of Vinstreb School for the Gifted /holder of the evil storyteller badge of no honor /king of madness /The FBI/ The Archmage of I CAST...!
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Fun Fact: i gain more power the more you post on my forum threads. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
*That sounds really annoying, tbh*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
*lol*
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
*hey, you wanna rp drizzile?*
Pronouns: I don't [GP]ing care. call me whatever
About Me: Godless monster in human form bent on extending their natural life to unnatural extremes /general of the goose horde /Moderator of Vinstreb School for the Gifted /holder of the evil storyteller badge of no honor /king of madness /The FBI/ The Archmage of I CAST...!
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Fun Fact: i gain more power the more you post on my forum threads. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
*I can't stay but I thought I should give an update since some momentous events have occurred.*
The Fox Hounds have come baying to the feet of their master. His great autumnal head hears their whines and barks, understanding their silent sort of speech. He learns what scents they smell, or rather, smell no longer. Trails gone cold. Hunts gone old. Ghouls turned bold.
He makes no announcement. He does not appear before his people. Not yet. Soon. But for now, he knows the jack'o'lanterns will spread the news.
There are many pumpkins in the Autumn Country. And it's usually not long before faces are torn across their surface and spirits fill their mouths. Some stay silent, some gibber silly secrets and overheard conversation. But now they all scream a greater news:
"Have you heard the horrible thing? Let the news through the hollers ring! Someone has no regard for the rules!"
"Somebody stole the Barley King! Misfortune this will surely bring! I have heard it was those hungry ghouls!"
The wind of the Autumn Country usually carries a chill. Now that chill bites deep and hard, nipping blood and bone. And what is that falling among the leaves? Did you see? Could that be snow?
in a clearing with no plants, something rolls over under a blanket of lichen and cobwebs.
the snow is good.
Pronouns: I don't [GP]ing care. call me whatever
About Me: Godless monster in human form bent on extending their natural life to unnatural extremes /general of the goose horde /Moderator of Vinstreb School for the Gifted /holder of the evil storyteller badge of no honor /king of madness /The FBI/ The Archmage of I CAST...!
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Fun Fact: i gain more power the more you post on my forum threads. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
"WANT 10,000 PLATINUM?"
Flyers have begun falling from the sky all over the Autumn Country. Dark oval shapes float over the clouds.
"Whaleheart Eats has an EXCITING OFFER for you!"
Huge, strange machines have been placed in front of Ghoul Gates, slowly, oh-so-painfully slowly, forcing them open.
"Bring the head of the Barley King to any Whaleheart Eats location, and ALL THIS MONEY will be yours!"
Cozotz, the Medium, and several other mercenaries have gathered around the machines, defending them and waiting for them to finish.
"You will also receive a FREE family meal!"
The chubby, smiling face of the founder is on every flyer, an illustration of him standing in front of a plate with a lamb's head on it, holding a bag of money in one large hand and putting his other on the shoulder of an anonymous, featureless figure.
"This could be YOU!"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Adeline is in the silk-strangled forest once again, wrapped in blankets so that only a bit of her face and her antennae can be seen, huddled in front of a crackling campfire. She's trying her best to avoid the creeping cold of winter, attempting to keep warm as though her life depends on it.
The crooked ghoul is in Ghulheim, watching the celebrations occur in anticipation for the famines and frost that winter will bring, and the feast that shall follow. Its plan has been going wonderfully so far... and yet, it doesn't seem to be happy with the results.
The Groundskeeper sees the falling snow, and their first reaction is fear. They frantically begin trying to preserve as much of the courtyard as they can- covering more vulnerable plants with tarps that still let the sunlight through, placing mulch in the soil to prevent freezing, bringing the potted shrubs and smaller topiary bushes indoors, and other such things. Winter shall not ruin this pristine garden.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The cultists of the Barley King are panicking. All ghouls they see are obliterated with divine magic on sight. Formerly spread throughout Autumn Country, they now gather en masse in their tavern churches and around the keep of painted leaves. Their seven High Priests are making a plan. The barley king is in Ghulheim… they don’t have the numbers to fight the Ghouls on their home turf… oh, what are they to do?
Julius is in his secret, sacred pumpkin patch, untouched by any hands other than his in a decade. Snow falls lightly upon the domain, but melts in the air before it touches the ground. Julius’ magic protects his most sacred place, at least. He leaves the pumpkin patch, surrounded by dense woods, impenetrable to all but him, impossible to find unless he wishes it, and makes his way on the wind towards the keep of painted leaves.
Soon, Julius arrives, emerging out of a field of wheat and making his way to the pristine garden, meticulously taken care of by the groundskeeper. He does whatever he can to help them, probably the most qualified to do so in all of Autumn country, besides the groundskeeper themself.
Mother Moth, sensing the coming winter, is providing refuge for travelers in her sanctuary, knitting blankets and warm clothes frantically, helping spiders find dens, and adding extra protection from the cold for her brood of silk moths in the trees.
In both locations (at separate times), a large man approaches. The man from the flyers. He begins humming to himself as he puts up rods in a 60ft circle, absolutely jolly. He says nothing, just continuing his work.
"Tell me... why does it sound so easy to breathe..." He sings under his breath.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Several workmen wearing uniforms from a fast food company approach, carrying big boxes of yarn. "A gift from Whaleheart Eats." One states, offering her a clipboard and pen. There's a line to sign, and the only things other than that on the page is "I have recieved my package" and five empty stars. The young man seems overworked and underdressed for winter, but he's not complaining about anything.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
The Groundskeeper has already done an impressive amount of work on shielding the garden from the first frost by the time Julius arrives- they have no magic to speak of, but have employed numerous mundane methods to preserve the plants as best they can. With the help of the Harvest Prince, the rest of the work is completed in near-record time. Only after they are certain everything that can be done to protect the courtyard has been done do they speak. "Many thanks, your highness. I am deeply sorry I failed to act sooner." They bow slightly.
Adeline quickly arrives as the sanctuary soon after, shivering despite her numerous layers of protection from winter's bite. Without saying a word, she immediately goes to help Mother Moth with all their winter preparations with a similar desperate rapidity.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
She frowns, looking the page up and down, and on the back, despite it being blank. “A gift?…” she seems a bit… shocked. After a bit of consideration, she asks, ‘who owns Whaleheart eats?…” after that, she likely signs her name, writing, ‘Duchess Calpe Belinapter,’ and looking up to the man. “What are the stars for?”
She looks up at them as they approach, not daring to stray too far from the fire's warmth. He can see her large, dark eyes watching him curiously from within the makeshift cocoon of insulation. "What are those?" She asks, talking about the metal rods he places in a circle.
Before he plants the first rod into the soil, he sees the Groundskeeper, arms crossed, looking down at him. "What do you think you are doing?" They pointedly ask.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
the emissary of lichen is standing in a feild, motionless
the emmisary of worms is digging up corpses to feast on them
Pronouns: I don't [GP]ing care. call me whatever
About Me: Godless monster in human form bent on extending their natural life to unnatural extremes /general of the goose horde /Moderator of Vinstreb School for the Gifted /holder of the evil storyteller badge of no honor /king of madness /The FBI/ The Archmage of I CAST...!
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Fun Fact: i gain more power the more you post on my forum threads. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
"Mr. W.L. Fryer, ma'am. A philanthropist and inventor. No idea why he wants to help y'all. The stars are so we know how satisfied you are with your delivery." He lifts up his foot to stomp on a spider, before reluctantly letting it pass by, sighing. "Why are these things so important?" He asks, referring to the arachnids.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
He nods. “You work much too hard for me to allow this garden to die… I can enchant the garden with a ward of protection against the cold, but it won’t be completely effective- my magic is stretched much too thin at the moment…” he says, sitting down and surveying their work.
”good, good, I’ll get you some more thread, darling-“ she says to Adeline, pacing about the sanctuary, knitting and transporting materials. “Perhaps I can call upon the local spiders to help us- If I had known there was a cold snap coming I could have had more time to prepare- we’ll need food- and wood for fire- oh my… we might have to go underground-“ she mutters, mostly to herself, but also to Adeline. There are already about two dozen people throughout the sanctuary, huddling for warmth.
As he finishes, he smiles a bit wider. "You'll see in just a second." He pulls out a remote and pulls a lever on it. A golden dome appears arcing between the poles and filling the area with warm sunlight. Not too hot, but like a warm autumn day. The area is now Hallowed.
He taps the rod in his hand, and warm sunlight begins to beam out. "Keeps the ghouls out and the plants warm and healthy. This garden is an icon of the Autumn Country, and to cover it up would be a crime." He offers some rods to the Groundskeeper.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.